


Lavender and Vanilla

by Anna_Blossom



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Star-crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:16:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anna_Blossom/pseuds/Anna_Blossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela’s eyes soften, and she smiles sadly at him, but she never lowers her pistol. “Doctor’s orders,” she whispers, and Mako feels his heart clench painfully.</p><p>(please don't take this too seriously)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavender and Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this thing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IbtTX8MRQTE
> 
> Watch it to understand.

Mako follows Jamison as they run in the streets of Dorado. They have to stop the payload. He hears his fellow junker curse.

“We need a healer, mate!”

“We only have Zenyatta,” Mako grunts back, aiming his scrap gun at Reinhardt’s shield. From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of a slender figure. His breath stops for a moment, his eyes widen.

_Angela?_

He turns his head and sees that no, it wasn’t Angela. The person didn’t have her golden hair or impeccable white suit. It was just the enemy healer running for cover. He growls and throws his hook at her, only to miss and hit the arch instead.

“Come back here!”

He runs after her, shooting scrap at her, and a pained gasp reaches his ears. The woman turns around and shoots a few rounds herself, but they do nothing more but graze him. He growls menacingly as he nears the injured opponent.

“I’m coming for you, bi—”

She turns around and suddenly, the whole world stops. Mako _knows_ her. His eyes widen in recognition and he nearly drops his weapon. It can’t be. But it _is_. It’s _her_. Gone was her blonde locks and angelic, replaced by dark hair that appeared deep blue in the moonlight.

 _You’re not her_ , Mako thinks numbly, eyes fixed on the enemy’s— no, on Angela’s. This doesn’t make sense, but he knows deep inside that it _does_. He recalls the way Angela seemed uncomfortable talking about her job, her work. He remembers the bottle of hair dye he found underneath her sink. This is Angela before him, standing tall despite the numerous bleeding wounds on her body, _his_ work. Mako feels guilt and horror. _She’s_ _dying_ , he realizes. One of her arms was so obviously broken, the front of her red suit darkened by her own blood.

Blood red orbs, no longer the familiar shade of blue he knew, stare at him defiantly, yet Mako could see the underlying fear, the sorrow, the _acceptance_ in them, and her lips parted to form a challenge.

“Do it, pussy.”

Mako felt himself tense, his grip on his gun tightening. He raises his weapon at the woman he used to call the love of his life. This isn’t how it’s supposed to end. His eyes close behind his mask. His finger trembles on the trigger, before his shoulders slump, and his gun lowers.

“I can’t,” he says softly, anguish in his voice. “I won’t.”

Angela’s eyes soften, and she smiles sadly at him, but she never lowers her pistol. “Doctor’s orders,” she whispers, and Mako feels his heart clench painfully. Footsteps and spurs, and he sees McCree come from behind Angela

“I’ve always loved you.”

He prepares himself for the incoming shots from the gunslinger’s revolver, for death, but the cowboy does not shoot. He does, however step closer next to Angela, weapon vigilantly trained on Mako in case he tries anything, but other than that, McCree remains silent, watching.

Tears fall from Angela’s eyes, and she sobs. “I love you, too,” she says quietly, almost drowned out by the sound of Reinhardt’s heavy footfalls. _But we can’t be together_. The words are left unsaid, but Mako knows.

“Don’t make me do this,” he begs, knuckles turning white as his grip on his gun’s handle tightens. Reinhardt is standing with them by now, watching as well, but Mako doesn’t care. “I can’t,” his voice breaks slightly, and Angela gazes at him with that sad, bittersweet look in her eyes, tear tracks on her cheeks. Mako knows what she’s asking of him.

“I CAN’T!” He yells, and McCree takes a cautionary step back, eyes narrowed. Reinhardt lifts his hammer, preparing himself, but Angela… Angela _smiles_ at him. It’s the same bright smile she wore when she asked him out on a date, when she asked if they could watch a movie together, when she said she loved him and asked if he loved her back. The same smile Mako could never say ‘no’ to.

Mako pulls the trigger.

It was as if someone slowed down time. She staggers back a bit before she falls forward, still smiling. Their eyes meet for the last time, she mouths two words at him as she falls. _‘Thank you.’_ And with that, her eyes slip shut, blood spurting out of her mouth. Mako feels numb, as if someone as if the sun stopped shining, as if the whole world had collapsed underneath his feet. It feels as if his heart just died. In a way, it did.

He runs away before she even hits the ground, towards the cliff. He feels bullets pierce his skin, but he doesn’t stop. He hears McCree and Reinhardt running after him, but he doesn’t stop. Suddenly, his feet land on nothing. He hasn’t even noticed that he reached the cliff.

He takes out a canister of the healing gas Angela made special for him. He breathes it in as he falls, because if he dies, he wants to die with the memory of her.

He closes his eyes as he reaches the rocks at the bottom.

_“I made you something,” Angela says cheerfully, presenting him with a canister. He takes it quietly, not saying anything. She reveals his gas mask with a small ‘ta-da’, which makes Mako shake his head with amusement. “I made some changes with your gas mask, if you don’t mind.”_

_“It’s filled with a special form of nanites that you can inhale through your mask. All you have to do is press it against here, rotate it slightly so it locks on, then breathe in,” she explains before handing him his gas mask. “Try it!”_

_Mako inspects the cannister carefully along with the changes Angela made with his mask. He slowly puts on the mask, presses the canister to the face piece, and breathes in. His eyes widen slightly as the scent of lavender and vanilla fills his nostrils. His muscles relax and he feels better than he had in days._

_“Smells like you,” he remarks after taking off his mask._

_“I told you I made it special,” she says with a smile, before leaning in for a kiss._

Wind rushes past him. He breathes in. Lavender and vanilla. After that, nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a serious author.


End file.
